Flo
by Spinach and Artichoke
Summary: (A retake of the original version, "flow") Novelization. A young girl loses track of herself and has to anything she can to regain what she once had.
1. Chapter 1

_A novelization of .flow as interpreted by myself. This is the second version of the story (the first of which was never posted to this website in full and has now been taken down because wow it needed some love) and I hope to do a good job of keeping it updated here. As with the last one, this is based off my experiences in the game and around my personal thoughts and ideas. Please enjoy!  
_

* * *

**.flow**

As seen and interpreted by  
Spinach/Sunny

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_"Flow is the mental state of operation in which a person in an activity is fully immersed in a feeling of energized focus, full involvement, and s__uccess in the process of the activity." _  
-Mihály Csíkszentmihályi

* * *

**A Prologue**

Imagine that there's this little man, and this little man is trapped inside a cave with no way to get out. If you were this little man, what would you do? You would probably yell and scream, cause a ruckus, beat on the walls, and try to blast your way out. Now take that cave, and replace it with the inside of my head. That's what's going on in there right now. That's all that's been happening in there for as long as I can remember. We thought it was migraines when I was young, but the doctors performed all sorts of weird tests on me, all of which came up negative. We had no idea what was causing it or why it was happening, and I knew since I was little that doctors wouldn't be able to tell me. It was like one of those shows on TV where they interview the person with the incredibly exotic illness who didn't know about it until it was almost too late. I would go from doctor to doctor praying for some decimal's worth of progress, but it always came up the same.

I know this makes me sound like a whinny little bitch, but I honestly don't think you can understand it. It's not just a headache; it's worse. No matter what I do, I can't dull it. If I start getting used to the feeling, then it mutates and festers in a different area in my mind. Growing and feeding on my sanity. I don't know life without this pain, and I don't know what I would do if I could find a way to get rid of it. It's a part of me now that I just couldn't live without, and maybe I can learn to channel it through some amazing ability I never knew I had? . . . I really doubt that though. I'm so unremarkable.

That's what I am: unremarkable. I'm a plain-Jane girl who's cowardice has turned her into a pathetic lump that rarely gets the courage to climb out of bed. My family and friends beg me to leave my room. They promise me things that couldn't possibly be true: "Come on out Sabi! It's such a beautiful day today! I know that if you would come out of there and got some fresh air, you'd feel fantastic!" Boy was that a lie if I had ever heard one. One look out on my balcony (which supplied me with all the fresh air I needed) would tell me that the sky was one large, opposing cloak of clouds, just like it always was. Usually at about that point, the man in my head would get irritated and start drilling behind my eye. If I ever met him I'd slug him right in the nose.

. . . Violence is never the answer. No matter what, I would never resort to it. That just isn't something I really have in me. I'm the kind of girl who faces a horrible threat, and cries about it. I can't pull myself together and fight back - oh no. I curl up in a little ball and cry until it leaves me alone. For example, there was a short time when I was a little girl where I went on a field-trip with my classmates to an aquarium. We were all wide-eyed and awe-struck as we paced through the building, romping from tank to tank and taking in everything that we saw. It was a great time up until about lunch time. When the teacher called everyone to eat, we all split up into out small little groups of friends and ate in peace. Now this was a bit of a problem for me since the boy that I usually sat with was quite sick that day and couldn't go with us on our trip. Poor little Sabi ate alone on a bench outside. How nice it was to have a small bit of time by myself, away from the screaming mass of children that sat inside. Maybe a 5 year-old sitting alone outside was a bad idea, but I thought nothing of it because in my mind, nothing bad could happen on this wonderful day; even the man in my head was taking a break from his spelunking and kept it down upstairs.

When the teacher called everyone back into the group it was time for a much needed bathroom-break for everyone. In groups of 5-6, we would file into our respective room, do our business, and return to the mass of children in the lobby. I was paired with a group of 4 other girls who without me knowing, said horrible, horrible things about me behind my back (again, what kind of kindergartener does this?). I thought all of us were on level terms and could possibly be swell with each other. Well somehow we ended up being the last group of girls to use the restroom. In other-words, I was the last girl to use the restroom since the other 4 rushed into the stalls as quickly as possible so I would have to wait. Well as if it were some sort of ballet, they all finished up at the same time, and left. So this left me on my own. Or so I thought . . .

The girls hadn't actually left the room and were waiting just outside my stall to hold the door closed so I couldn't get out. When I realized this, I got a bit worried. "Umm, can you please let me out?"

"Hahaha! No! No, no, no, no! Are you stupid? Why would we let you out?" one of them cackled at me. I can still hear the tone in her voice. She had a gap in her teeth where one had fallen out recently and it gave her a slight lisp.

"B-but we need to get back out with the others? Why won't you let me out? I thought we could be fri-"

"Why would we be friends with you? You're the biggest looser in school! You're so dumb!" They all laughed.

Well I'm not sure how they did it, but they managed to jam the door shut because before I even knew what was happening, they ran out. The little shits even shut the heavy bathroom door, and turned the lights off. Needless to say that this didn't bubble over well with the small 5 year-old girl who was afraid of her own shadow, let alone a bathroom that was so dark you couldn't see your hand inches from your face. I started to beat on the door with both of my hands, yelling as loud as I could for someone to come save me. In my innocent panic, I began to hear things: things that I hope weren't really there. There was a mocking laughter that echoed around my head. Small rodents were chattering as they darted across my feet from corner to corner. But what I think really took the cake, was boiling that was rising up behind me.

It would seem that there was a monster that was taking shape inside the pluming of the toilet I was next to, as it bubbled and screamed at me. I started to cry at this point and could feel the tears as they poured down my face. My lip started to cramp slightly until it was frozen into a pout, and my nose lost all function and I couldn't even try to keep the snot off my face. My god I pounded as hard as I could on that door, but it just wouldn't give in no matter how hard I tried. I punched, kicked, everything. Finally even the little man in my head must've snapped because I got the idea to crawl under the stall. Granted I hit my head once or twice since I was so rushed to escape whatever was pulling itself out of the porcelain throne behind me, but soon I was free. Well sort of - I could still hear the noises, and it was still dark as fuck in that bathroom. Thus, began my next quest: find the door.

This proved to be a much larger task than I had thought I would've been. I pretty much found everything but the door. I turned on every faucet, I bumped into every stall, I accidentally started the hand dryers which freaked me even worse. It was so hard to think right with everything that was happening. My ears were assaulted by the sounds, my head was spinning, I didn't know up from down. One way or another though, I found that door. My grubby little hands grabbed that handle and pulled as hard as I could. I ran out of there screaming as loud as I could, and it only get even louder when my eyes still didn't work due to the sudden change in light. I tore through the building in a total state of shock and panic. I pushed open the door and ran through the metal detector until I was outside, huddled under a tree.

Now you're probably wondering where the employee's, my teacher, or human for that matter, was. Well me too? No one seemed to notice when I ran out of the lobby. The teacher didn't seem to notice my absence until the very end of the trip. By then though, I had forced myself back to sanity, and wandered my way back to the bus where everyone else was loading. The whole bus ride, I sat alone in my seat with my lunchbox crying quietly to myself. I could hear all the kids around my laughing and giggling amongst themselves. It wasn't at me, but it sure felt like it. All of them didn't give a rat's ass about me, or that I had a mental breakdown to the point of hallucination. If he would've been there though, I'm sure he would have cared. He would have waited at the restrooms for me, and when he realized something was wrong, he would've gotten help. He would have sat with me on the way home and joked with me to make me feel better. But he was sick. He was fucking sick. Sick with a cold or something - I don't remember - but it was something stupid like that. I don't want to sound selfish or anything, but why couldn't he have sucked it up and come on the trip anyway? Just to keep me sane? He would have sat there next to me, all awkward like, and we would have found a game to play; some odd thing we made up on a whim. He was one of my only friends growing up. He was all I needed. It wasn't love, not at all! I can't even remember his name anymore. I suppose I just used him to fill up the dark spots in my soul.

But this is all very childish of me to weep over. I have absolutely no reason to grab onto false hopes and lost desires. All I want from the rest of my life is for a momentary release from everything happening. I want the world to stop for 5 seconds and take a deep breath. I want someone to actually give a shit wheather I get out of bed the next day, or wheather I wither and wilt under my sheets until I turn to soil. There is something very wrong with me right now, and I aim to solve the puzzle. Maybe if I can, I can die in peace.

I can finally find salvation, and just let go. After-all, isn't that what we all want from life?


	2. Chapter 2

**Thick  
**

I didn't get much sleep last night. I'm not sure what it was exactly; a burring feeling that burrowed deep into my chest. It was a feeling of nervousness or anxiety. So there I lay, feeling my eyes getting heavier and heavier but never closing in full. I stared at the ceiling for hours on end, watching the darkness slowly creep around me. It looked like it was alive - black worms that were wiggling and writhing all across the ceiling. It slowly got more and more dense; constantly changing shape and growing infinitely in all directions. Before I knew it, they were making noises. A disgusting slopping noise that made my skin crawl. They continued to squirm until they began to drip. One by one they started plopping down onto my face and body. Even though I could feel in initial impact, they dissipated into mist and were reborn once again along with its sisters who writhed above my head. They grew louder and louder; a quiet buzz turned into a mountain of screaming. High pitched squeals rang inside my ears and no matter what I did, I couldn't hide from it. I covered my head with my pillow, but it provided not even a softening of the worm's cries. I whined and moaned for the sounds to end. I needed to sleep.

I was pulled out of my struggle by a thud that shook the room and made my bed hiss. It stomped out the worms and forced the air out of my lungs. As if a truck drove through the wall I sat up to investigate. Everything seemed to be just how I left it. The floor was still old-looking with a tacky rug that covered a growing water stain, the walls were peeling, my bookcase listed to the left and threatened my old TV that got no signal. My old game console still collected dust in the middle of the floor (I can't remember the last time I used it). The pillows my grandmother made were still scattered on the floor and their age was beginning to show. A light caught my eye. I still don't know why it wasn't the first thing I noticed - after-all, my room was completely dark before, but now, my computer sat on the desk beside my bed with its screen glaring into the room and filling it with a pale blue light. I rubbed my neck and threw my weight to the side so I could get up. With one swift movement I was in my computer chair.

I shielded my eyes for a moment while they adjusted to the painful light. When I felt like I could take it, I glanced between my fingers. The screen was flashing randomly with snow that would buzz and hiss with each strobe. It also looked like my screen was broken. A web was grabbing at the edges of the screen from the center but only appeared between each blizzard. I was feeling uneasy.

Dizzy.

Unsure.

Unprepared.

This feeling was then pushed further by the sudden humming noise that crept out of the tower near my feet - Oh! and I think it might be important to note that I was now on the monitor. A small little image of me standing in the middle of this emptiness, oblivious. I sat there in awe. I don't know what the fuck this was. If this was some joke my family was pulling on me, it wasn't funny - though I doubt anyone in my family was capable of something like this. I didn't know what to do. I tried cutting the power but the machine wouldn't respond. Even totally unplugging the thing didn't work; it only made the machine angry. It hummed a bit louder now, and the area around her began to warm up.

"Damn it! Do something!" I cursed at it, slamming my hand down on the keyboard. It did the trick because it finally reacted. A loud hiss was fired from the speakers on either side of the monitor, and the images on the screen began to phase out with a weird pixel-y effect until it let out a sound similar to an air-raid siren. Louder and louder it grew until suddenly it was cut off by the sound of someone knocking at my door. In the split second, it silenced.

"Sabrina, honey? Are you going to come out today? If you're not careful you're going to sleep through breakfast again... and I made your favourite." It was my mom.

"Y-yeah. . . Give me a second." I figured I would humor her today. Plus it would probably help me cool off. The fact that she didn't seem to notice all the racket coming from my room was making me wonder if I was just hearing things. Cabin Fever I say. I slowly got to my feet, shook out my hair, and stepped into a soft pair of slippers that I got for Christmas. I pressed at the wrinkles in my shirt.

They only set deeper.

Eating was a tad awkward. The two of us just sat in silence as we slowly worked on our plates. My mind wasn't on my food though. I couldn't wrap my head around that damn computer. However, my mother quickly pulled me back to reality before I was able to lose myself further. "Sabi, I'm really worried about you. Ever since the accident. . . you just haven't been the same. I know it's been hard on you, and it's been hard on me too but... It's like we don't eve live together anymore. I wish you would start your life back up. It would be really good for you - you know?"

I let the waffle in my mouth settle for a second so I wouldn't have to respond. I hated the sound of my own voice and speaking would only make things worse for me. I must have made a face because she bit her tongue, "I- I'm sorry dear. I know how much you hate hearing that bu-"

"You don't know what I hate." I sounded ruder than I wanted.

My sudden voicing caught her off guard. She probably hadn't heard me speak in a year. I was practically a mute now. "I'm sorry dear. . . But I always see how you slump over when I say something about it. But... It's been 2 years now."

She was right when she said I hated hearing about it though. I wasn't incredibly close to my father or anything, but I adored my sister. She was so young and beautiful, with her long black hair, and the deepest eyes that were even darker. But the accident gave her some strange disease - so did daddy - that basically ate her from the inside out. It wasn't Ebola, but it was similar. I think the main difference was that this slowly killed them over the course of 10 years or so. It stripped them of all colour, and drove them both mad. It eventually led to my sister having her legs amputated. It wasn't pretty. She could never get used to the prosthetic ones she was given. The feet must have been to small or something, because she could never get her balance again. She just sat in her bed until she died and touching at the leaves of the plants she had sitting around her room. They forgot all about my mother and I. That's sort of what I'm doing now: waiting in my room until Death finally says, "Fuck it, come with me."

I won't bore you with any details, but breakfast sort of steeped over at that point and we once again ate in silence (except for a few, "This is good. Did you get a new recipe?" and a tired sigh or two). I thanked her for the meal and for dealing with me (though it was half-assed and I didn't really mean it) and walked back to my room. When I turned the corner down the hall, I ran to my door before shutting my door and taking my place back at my desk.

The screen had a new message on it: " f l o w_". I didn't get it. "Flow?" I whispered to myself. The screen light alive again. " ye s. c o me w it hu s. ss yo u." This really threw me for a loop. The computer was talking to me. Talking to me. I had to be losing it now. I should've stayed out there and done the dishes with mom or something. I couldn't get up though, I was entranced. " t yp us."

"Type?"

t e ll u s ast or y

"What kind of story?"

a n y g

"And I should type it?"

y e s

I ran my fingers through my hair. I can't believe I was really about to tell my computer a story. What was wrong with me, that I would actually do this instead of picking up the monitor, and throwing it off my balcony while yelling, "YOU WON'T GET ME DEMONS!" Well that probably wouldn't be the smartest idea. Knowing my luck I would drop it on someone, or a neighbor would call the cops on the crazy girl throwing shit off her balcony. But I did it anyway. Yes, reader, I actually told the computer a story. I honestly don't remember what the story was about though; it all came out so quickly. My fingers began to dart around between the keys, pressing them with perfect timing and precision. All I really remember was the first few words: "Once there was a girl, who wanted to touch the stars". After that it was all mush until I regained awareness.

My vision was blurring like I had hit my head extra hard, and I was having trouble sitting up. I pushed as hard as I could against the cold floor beneath me. Wait, cold floor? After my vision was restored, my eyes told me that I was sitting outside my apartment. I wasn't sure how I got out of my room but, I wasn't going to stay out much longer. I took to my feet and reached for the door. The knob spun loosely in my hand; far to loosely. It was broken. The door wouldn't open no matter how hard I shook or kicked it. I spent maybe 15 minutes pounding on that door, begging for my mom to let me in, but I didn't get any answer. It was all so quiet except for my breathing. I couldn't even hear momma's soap operas on the TV right inside. "Damn it."

I then decided to go downstairs to ask the person at the desk for an extra key so I could get back in. I walked quickly down the corridor and turned the corner to take the stairs. They only went up. "Wait, up? No no no. I'm on the top floor. How could they go up when there's nothing above this floor?" I looked over at the elevator. Surely that would take me down to the lobby, but after flicking the button, I decided it was out of order. Maybe in my time locked in my room, they changed the layout of the place? I took back down to the other side of the building, only to be greeted by an identical scene. One difference though, the stairs on this side were roped off with police tape. Okay there were two differences because the elevator on this side responded to me jabbing at the button a few times. It finally reached me and I stepped inside when the doors slid open. You should have seen my face when they closed behind me and wouldn't open. I'm sure my expression was priceless when I noticed there were only two buttons on the panel, "Here" and "There". Now this just did not add up. Not at all. What was I supposed to do? I ran my fingers through my hair, _again_, and pressed "There".

I was pushed down as the cabin began move. I could hear music getting close.


End file.
